


I Can't Quit You

by orphan_account



Category: Veep (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-06 07:22:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8740180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dan and Amy are no longer co-workers, but somehow they can't stop running into each other. Set post s5.





	1. The V.A. Fundraiser

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: this is my first ever Mature fic AND my first ever multi-chapter fic, so bear with me. I just couldn't keep this idea out of my head. I'll try to update every week. Thanks guys!!

She didn’t know what it was about him in a tuxedo that turned her on. But when he walked into that ballroom, looking like he belonged in fucking GQ, she got weak in the knees. Among other places. 

Remaining a part of Selina’s team meant going to a bunch of God-awful fundraisers just to get her on the carpet and keep her in people’s faces. It also meant seeing Dan fucking Egan. And that stupid fucking tuxedo.

So her attendance at the V.A. and meant seeing said Egan and the aforementioned tux. And since she was the youngest person at that event by at least 15 years, it was good to see a familiar face. But, to be fair, it would have been nice to see any face that didn’t have Viagra in it’s medicine cabinet. Could have been fucking Gary, she would’ve been just as happy. Had nothing to do with it being Dan. Definitely not.

When he walked up to her at the bar, he stood just a little bit closer than she was comfortable with. 

She instinctually rolled her eyes at him, a habit she had well-established over the span of their 10 year…relationship? Whatever the fuck it was. “Why the fuck are you here?” 

“You look nice,” he said, as his eyes scanned the tight black dress she wore. 

“I guess the vapid, brain-dead world of political television has ruined what was left of your brain, so I’ll ask again-why the fuck are you here?”

“My producers bought a table, so I’m here hoping to get in with the guys over at NBC.” He smirked at her as his eyes roamed her body once more. “I’ll repeat myself too, you look nice tonight Amy.”

“Thanks,” Amy replied. She looked up at him through her lashes and said, “You know, for someone who’s devoid of any human sentiment, you actually look pretty nice too.”

Dan laughed and inched closer to her. “What do you think I sold my soul to the devil for?” 

15 minutes later they were fucking. The moment they walked into the coat closet, Dan grabbed her and kissed her intensely. She felt his tongue prod her mouth open, and she let hers roam free as well. He backed her up against the wall, as he began lifting her dress up. She moaned with pleasure as she felt his fingers run along the lace underwear she’d bought for the occasion, and moaned louder as he moved them aside to finger her.  
“Shit Amy, do you want the entire fucking party knowing what’s going on in here?” He asked, as he quickly removed his bowtie and shoved it into her mouth. 

She arched her back as he returned to his work of getting her off, shoving two fingers inside her, in and out with ease. Knowing she would need a little more than that to orgasm, she took his head and roughly pushed it toward her. Luckily for her, he got the hint, and removed his fingers, replacing them with tongue. She felt her limbs shaking as his tongue circled her clit, her stifled moans getting higher. Just as she was on the precipice of orgasm, he pulled out his dick and slid inside her, moaning at the warm wetness coating him.

He fucked her hard and fast, not concerned with the noise any longer. Amy’s head was loudly banging against the wall, but neither of them cared. “Oh Fuck,” he said, “God, I’m so close right now.” He sped up his thrusts, as she moved her own hand south to rub her own clit. She arched her back in pleasure as she finally came, and several thrusts later he did as well. 

He pulled out of her and slid his pants back on as she straightened her dress and combed her hair with her fingers. 

“So,” he asked, “Got any big plans tonight?”

She shook her head at him as she put on lipstick. “No, just a pile of interview requests to read over for Selina since Catherine’s doc leaked. You?” she asked, looking up at him.

“Nah, just going on a date later.”  
She looked at the ground, trying her best not to look crestfallen. “Oh,” she said. “Who’s Satan’s plaything tonight?”

“Ah, just Nancy Cornwall, you know, producer at NBC nightly news?”

She laughed, “Oh Dan, may you never change, no matter how much your mother prays you will.”

He laughed as he finally finished re-trying his crumpled bowtie. “I’ll see you around, Ames.” With his usual smirk and wink, he was gone. And Amy was alone.

She really fucking hated herself sometimes.


	2. Justice Hargrove's funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one hated being at Justice Hargrove’s funeral more than Amy. Amy didn’t want to be there even more than Justice Hargrove didn’t want to be there.

No one hated being at Justice Hargrove’s funeral more than Amy. Amy didn’t want to be there even more than Justice Hargrove didn’t want to be there. And Though Selina had always described him as “human Ebola,” all former presidents were customarily required to attend the funeral of a Supreme Court Justice. Lucky her. 

“I don’t know why I have to go to this fucking thing, Hughes is the dipshit who nominated him,” Selina lamented to her staff on the drive to the church. 

“I know, but kissing Montez’s ass equals a photo op, equals you on CNN’s homepage. Visibility is the new game, ma’am.” And despite setting up the photo op, and arranging for Selina to read a Psalm, Amy shared Selina’s disdain for attending. 

After her incredible lapse of judgment at the V.A. fundraiser, she had felt sick for days with regret. What a fucking idiot was she? All he has to do is compliment her and she drops her panties like he’s Channing Fucking Tatum? Gloria Steinem would be ashamed. 

As the car came to a halt, Amy shuffled Selina out and into the church, Mike and Gary falling in line behind them. She settled Selina in with the other presidents before taking her seat towards the back of the church. 

Just as the truly insufferable Montez eulogy was finished, Amy heard the creaking of someone sitting down in the pew behind her. Please God, Please dear God do not let it be Dan. 

“Hey Ames,” A familiar voice said, their hot breath on her neck.

Oh for fucks sake. She would honestly rather die than see Dan, especially because her brain aneurysm in the coat closet had given him the upper hand. No pun intended.

“How the fuck are you possibly here? Who needs a pundit at a funeral? Not even you are that morally bankrupt.” Amy whispered angrily.

“Well, it’s been a while since I saw you last, figured you might need some stress relief. Also my boss happened to be golf buddies with Justice Asshole,” Dan said in her ear. 

“Dan, I would honestly fuck a cactus right now before I’d fuck you again.”

He leaned just a little bit closer, his lips next to her ear as the hairs on her neck stood up. “Well, maybe you’ve forgotten in the past couple weeks what a great time we have together.”

“Maybe you have a great time when we’re together, I only have a good time once in a while.” Amy shot back.

By this point, Mike has become aware of the escalating whispering happening in the seats next to him. “Hey, Dick and Liz? Can you please go outside before you hate fuck in the middle of a funeral?” He said, leaning over to them.

Amy stared back at him with disdain. “We are not-“ and just as she was prepared to make Mike regret the day he was born, Dan took her by the arm and led her out the side door. 

He held up a hand in apology hand, “Sorry, I’m taking her outside to calm her down.”

The minute they had exited the church, Amy’s tiny fists began beating Dan’s chest senselessly. “I cannot believe you. You had to pull me out of an extremely important funeral just to fuck with me? I better not miss Selina’s photo op, I’m not fucking kidding Dan.” Her face was scrunched up in the way that showed she was reeeaally fucking pissed, but Dan kind of always thought it was cute. Until he moved, resulting in her punching him in the face.

“Jesus Amy, what the fuck? Being chief of staff didn’t work out so you decided to become the next Apollo Creed?” Dan cried, holding his nose.

And despite her own incredible anger at him, she couldn’t help but feel bad for breaking his nose. His stupid pretty nose, on his stupid pretty face. Amy took a deep breath in. “Look, I have a first aid kit in my purse, come with me and I’ll try and fix it.” 

Despite having blood gushing out of his nose, that fucker smirked at her. “Sure Ames, thanks.” She wished she had punched him in the mouth instead. 

By the time they made it to her car, the blood falling from Dan’s nose had fallen onto the crisp white shirt he usually wore. “Fuck Amy, I can’t be wearing this shirt when I'm at the wake with my boss later, I look like I got my ass kicked when I’m supposed to be mourning some asshat I never even met.”

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at him, and he glared at her while doing so. Despite their best attempts, it was incredibly easy to fall back into the pattern they knew so well. “Take a Xanax, Princess. I have a stain remover in here too.” She stepped aside to open the limo door, grabbing her purse. 

“Doesn’t it look a little bad, you being my Florence Nightingale out here? Wouldn’t want a picture of you healing my wounds to get all the way out to shit-stain Nevada for Buddy to see."

“Fuck off and get inside the car,” Amy replied, getting in and opening her purse up. 

“You’re still seeing Cow-fucker then I take it?” Dan asked with an eyebrow raised in question.

“It’s really none of your fucking business, Dan.”

“Well, all I’m saying is, he might want to know his girlfriend was reminded what good sex was like last week.”

Amy’s face scrunched up in that way all to familiar to Dan. “It’s not your fucking business to tell him, and I’m sure that whatever pageant queen had your attention that night wouldn’t want to know that the guy she fucked had fucked someone else about 30 minutes before her.”

“Look, are you going to help fix me or do I need to start preparing the old ‘walked into a wall’ excuse for the my boss when he asks me why I’m impersonating Rocky Balboa?”

She signed in resignation. “Fucking come here before I remember how much I actually can’t stand you.”

“Why do you have all this stuff anyway? First aid kit, stain remover? I’ve known you ten years, and I’ve never seen you need either.” Dan noticed, looking straight into her eyes while she assessed the damage to his nose. 

“You forget I work with actual children, Dan. Gary running after Selina into walls, Mike spilling coffee on his shirt every morning. These are necessary to maintain what’s left of my sanity.” She said, wiping the blood from his face, applying a band-aid. 

“You know, I gotta admit: You really kept that place afloat. Keeping Selina from throwing fights, keeping Gary from killing himself over every little thing, keeping Mike competent. You were the only functioning adult there. Kept me from quitting more than once.”

Amy looked up from her work of stuffing cotton up his nose and met his gaze. “Well, you being competent and having more emotional maturity than a 5 year old probably helped a me out a little.”

Dan feigned shock, clutching his chest. “Did Amy Brookheimer just give me a compliment? I consider myself one of the lucky few.”

“Shut the fuck up and let me see your shirt.”

Dan untucked the tail of his shirt, allowing her to start marking it with the stain remover. 

“You know,” he started pensively, “In a place full of people so stupid they make the Dukes of Hazzard look like Rhodes Scholars, I think we did a pretty good job.”

She raised a brow to his statement, “We, huh?”

“I mean, I thought You and I made a great team there for a while. You agree?” He said, watching her work. 

“I guess it wasn’t all so bad,” She said back as she lifted her eyes and caught his gaze. 

The moment their eyes caught, it was all over. He roughly grabbed her face, lips locking, tongues swirling. He sat back on the seats as she climbed atop him.

“Oh God,” She said as his lips attached to her neck, feeling her teeth against her skin. When the simple touch was no longer enough, she grabbed his hands and placed them on her ass, sighing into the kiss when she felt his hands roaming her body. 

He unbuttoned her blouse, continuing to let his fingers dance across her skin, and once her breasts had been freed, she began to slowly unbutton his dress shirt as well. She kissed him as she made her way down his chest, undoing his belt.

Just as she was unzipping his pants, a car door opened. “Well Jesus Gary, I don’t know where the fuck Amy is, if I did I wouldn’t be all over creation looking for her for this fucking photo op.” 

Despite their own best efforts to do so, they did not cover up before Selina and Gary’s eyes made it to them.

“Oh. My. God. Really Amy? I’m looking for you for my comeback photo op and you’re in here about to fuck Dan? Get out now,” Selina said, her voice hitting the deep pitch that signified she was pissed the fuck off. As Amy tried to climb out of the car, Selina grabbed her arm. “Get some concealer out of Gary’s bag, you’ve got fucking bruises all over yourself. This sex better be fan-fucking-tastic.” 

They left, leaving Gary in their place, his eyes still gaping with what he had just witnessed. “Gary!” Selina called for him, “Bag, now!” And as he shuffled off, Dan was left alone, half-hard, bleeding, and embarrassed. 

They should really not allowed to be alone together.


	3. Catherine Meyer's Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Seriously? You want to ruin Selina’s night by making a scene at Catherine’s Wedding straight out of the Young and the Fucking Restless?” Amy said to Gary.
> 
>  
> 
> “Young and Fucking Restless, also the title of Dan and Amy’s sex tape,” Mike said.

If she never saw another Peony as long as she lived, it would be too soon.

Since Selina was in full-on strategy mode post-loss, Catherine’s wedding to Marjorie had been dumped in Amy’s unwilling lap. Which meant the past 6 months have been filled with picking out chairs, flower arrangements, and dress alterations.

Being in this humid Florida weather was already fucking unbearable, and the added stress of running around making sure the photographers for People were in the correct area, and every possible thing that could’ve gone wrong up to this point had.

It was the fucked-up flowers that that really sent her over the edge. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She screeched into the poor delivery boy’s face. “These are roses, I asked for fucking Peonies. This is a fucking black tie wedding not your junior prom. Now you get back here in the next 3 hours or so help me God, I will rip your uneducated, shriveled up balls off your body.”

With the frantic departure of the delivery boy, Amy was finally free to get ready herself. She walked into the bridal cottage to get ready, and was quickly smacked in the face by the strong smell of hairspray and the collective heat of the curling irons. 

“Catherine!” Selina called from her room, “Come in here and let my makeup artist fix what yours missed, sweetie.” Catherine begrudgingly complied, getting up from her chair to meet her mother. The 6 bridesmaids were all tipsy, screeching along to the music playing loudly from the stereo.

“Jesus Christ,” Amy said aloud. Before she could be spotted by them, she grabbed her dress and makeup and snuck into an empty room, locking the door behind her.

Once she finally had a moment to herself, Amy took a moment to look into the mirror and take a deep breath. She applied her make up, loosely pinning back her hair due to the heat. Her satin dress felt smooth on her skin, and breezy in the Florida heat, while the blue of the dress brought out her eyes. She checked herself out in the mirror, felt good about herself, and quickly rushed out of the room before she could get caught by Selina and be given even more virtually impossible tasks to accomplish.

As she walked the grounds looking to add final touches, she heard the familiar clunk of cowboy boots strutting towards her. “Well hey darlin’,” the voice said to her, “You look beautiful, my dear Amy. Anything I can help ya with?”

Buddy. Oh Buddy. After her numerous dalliances with one Dan Egan, she was not about to attend this wedding alone. So she brought him along, for her own sanity, and because she truly did like him-at least a little bit. She forced a smile at him, “No thank you, all I have left to do is ensure that they care about their lives enough to bring me the flowers I fucking asked for in the first place.”

“Well, if you need anything just let me know, I'll find you at the ceremony,” the lanky Nevadan said with a kiss to her cheek. And as he sauntered off, Amy fled to deal with the cake being put on the right table. 

She found Buddy right in time for the ceremony, grabbing two seats in back. Despite all she had gone through in the past year, Amy was happy to see Selina put on a happy face for her daughter, and she was even more thrilled to see that Andrew had brought Monica, which saved herself a migraine. 

The ceremony was quirky, simple and sweet, just like the newlyweds themselves. As soon as the couple was pronounced married, Selina quickly made her way over to Amy, grabbing her by the arm. “Amy, I swear to God if I get Miss Daytona 1995 in my family wedding photo, heads are gonna fucking roll so fast they won't have time to close their eyes.” Selina pulled her to the photographer, and Amy waved to Buddy that she’d find him later.

After finally getting all the shots done that Selina had wanted, Amy was excited to relax. As a waiter walked by, she grabbed two champagne glasses -both for herself- and looked through the crowd for her date. Just as she saw him and smiled, the crowd thinned enough her to see who he was talking to. 

“Look who I ran into!” Buddy exclaimed, gesturing to Dan.

“Isn't that just lucky?” Amy replied with her forced smile.

Dan smiled knowingly at her, which was enough to make her want to punch him. And kiss him. “Yeah, ole’ Buddy and I were just talking about you Ames,” Dan said.

Amy’s forced smile stretched tighter. “Is that so?”

“Well, I was just telling Dan here how lucky it was that ya’ll ended up in Nevada, otherwise I would’ve never met the greatest girl in the world.” Buddy said as he pulled her closer. By this point, Amy’s facial muscles were about to snap. 

“Buddy, why don’t we go find our seats for the reception?” She suggested, so grateful for an out. 

They went to the their seats, settling in before the festivities began. Amy was relieved she could finally breathe and have a break from Dan and his stupid fucking smug face, when very familiar footsteps came their way. There was obviously a plot out there to destroy her. 

“Hey guys. Looks like Ben’s wife didn’t want to sit at the team Veep table, so she very generously agreed to let me take her seat. Isn’t that nice? I just can’t figure out why I wasn’t sitting here to begin with. You have any idea, Ames?” Dan’s forced niceness in front of Buddy was grating her last fucking nerve.

As more people began to take their seats, her former co-workers spared no expense, making fun of her and Dan. Amy had repressed the memory of the limo incident at Justice Hargrove’s funeral until she had noticed the pointed commentary of her colleagues. 

As Mike lamented his over his lack of a sex life with a house full of kids, Ben replied, “You should rent a limo, I heard it’s a real panty dropper.”

“You're right Ben. But I also heard funerals work too. Something about the thought of dying seems to turn women on.”

By this point, Amy’s face was frozen in a glare that said “speak again and I'll kill you,” so it was probably for the best that the food arrived. Even Dan, who all had thought was impossible to embarrass, had turned a shade of pink at the conversation. Buddy, as usual, was completely clueless. When he got up to use the restroom, Amy and Dan turned their aim to their friends. 

“Seriously? You want to ruin Selina’s night by making a scene at Catherine’s Wedding straight out of the Young and the Fucking Restless?” Amy said to Gary.

“Young and Fucking Restless, also the title of Dan and Amy’s sex tape,” Mike said.

Amy’s glare to Mike was so severe, that at that moment he genuinely feared for his life, as shivers went down his spine.

“Just shut the fuck up while he's here, okay?” Dan asked. “I don't give a shit what you say when he isn't but I don't want him hearing about it, because then I'm going to get the full wrath of Amy, and hell hath no fury like an Amy scorned.” Amy looked at Dan quizzically, knowing that even with the last part of that, it was still a suspiciously nice gesture.

As Buddy returned to the table, Dan and Amy were spared of any further commentary when the DJ called everyone’s attention. Thankfully, it was time for the dancing to begin, and as Catherine and Marjorie concluded their first dance, all guests were invited onto the dance floor to join the newlyweds.

 

Buddy took Amy’s hand and led her to the dance floor. As he pulled her close to dance, she could feel his eyes looking at her. And Dan’s eyes on her. So she looked up at him and pulled him in for a kiss.

Dan looked on in jealousy. “What the fuck does she see in him? He looks like a fucking cartoon character.”

“Well, i’d say one selling point is him not having fucked her sister,” Sue said. “And also that he's actually nice to her.”

“I’m nice to Amy,” Dan defended, “I got her a job when she quit.”

“Yeah, and you also took her job, fucked her sister, and then reminded her of the fucking said sister on several occasions. A real love story for the ages.”

“Fuck this, and fuck Long, Tall, Kissass over there.” He grabbed his jacket and walked away. As he went to sit outside in the warm Florida weather, he couldn’t help but get angry at Buddy. It’s not like he was a bad guy, he just wasn’t fucking good enough for Amy. Not to say that he thought HE was the right guy for her, it was just that she deserved someone who could string a fucking sentence together without giving a blushing smile. Even fucking Ed could put together a decent insult, he could tell Buddy to fucking kill himself and he’d probably smile and do it. 

“Hey,” Amy said as she approached him carefully. “Care if I sit here?” Instead of waiting for his answer, she sat down next to him in the grass as the breeze began to blow. “I saw you talking to Sue, she tell you you were having a bad hair day or something?”

“Nah, we were talking about something else,” He looked up at her, “Why, you miss me?”

Amy rolled her eyes and laughed at him. “No, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t coming out here to kill yourself, because if you killed yourself, it’d create a shitton more work for me.” She looked to her left and found his eyes on hers. 

“You know, you did a really nice job on this whole thing today. I know Selina couldn't have fucking handled it. It’d be like watching a fucking car crash.”

“Thanks. Why are you being so nice to me today? First with Mike, now this? Do you need a fucking kidney or something?” Amy asked him suspiciously.

“Nah, I just thought you did a good job. They look really happy,” Dan said gesturing inside. What he was too scared to say was that he'd like to be that happy one day too. 

“Yeah,” she said, as they unknowingly moved closer together. “They just couldn't stay away from each other, no matter how hard literally everyone tried to keep them apart.” When she looked up from the grass she had in her hand, his face was merely inches away from hers.

“I know what that's like,” Dan said in a low voice. 

From there it all went downhill. He grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her to him, lips pressed against each other more gently than usual. His tongue prodded her mouth open, and hers joined his. She felt his hands on her face, on her neck, on her waist, and all she knew was that she wanted more. 

Spying an empty bathroom in the distance, the twosome made their way to the private area, never unlocking their lips along the way. Once they made it into the private area, the moment the door shut Amy found herself pressed against it. Cold, strong hands she felt as they made their way up her legs. When his hands finally made it to her lace underwear, he wasted no time in moving them to the side to slide two fingers inside her, while his mouth kept steady on her neck. 

While every single other part of her body told her to keep going, her brain told her so stop. And after about five more minutes of him pumping in and out of her, Amy finally caved.

“Dan, we gotta stop.” For a guy who was pretty fucking disrespectful every other time, this is one area of his life where he listened.

“What's wrong?” He asked as he pulled away. “I know I wasn't doing a bad job, because you sure fucking seemed to be enjoying it.”

“I don't-it's not-” Amy struggled to find the words to say. “This isn’t fair to Buddy, Dan.”

Dan looked as if he had completely forgotten the man’s existence. “Does he know about this? Because that's the only way this could be unfair.” 

“It's unfair, because he thinks we’re fucking Ross and Rachel, and he has no fucking clue that we’ve been well-”

“Fucking,” Dan said as he finished her sentence. “Well to be honest, I just have known you a long time, a really fucking long time Amy, and I just think you could do a lot better anyway.”

Amy was fuming at the audacity of fucking Dan telling her who was good enough for her. “Dan, I’m done. I have a guy in there who legitimately cares about me and wants to be with me, and I’m fucking it up because every time I’m around you I turn into some fucking braindead pageant queen who lives and dies on a man’s attention. And you-you-you, You don’t give a fuck about me, I’m just some game to you, Dan. I’m sudoko with tits. And I’m fucking over it. I’m done.”

She picked up her things and went back into the reception hall, and for one of the first times in his life, Dan felt like he had lost something.


	4. Selina's TV Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes working for Selina fucking sucked.

In the days following Catherine’s Wedding, Amy felt free for the first time in 10 years. No more texts about Senate Bills, no run-ins at their usual coffee spot, Amy didn’t even Google his name anymore. Without that Kennedy-looking ball and chain attached to her ankle, she was finally free to…well, she wasn’t doing much of anything. 

But Buddy had been hanging around more and more, and for once, she didn’t feel guilty. She still wasn't for sure if she liked him or not, but without her personal fucking handicap hanging around, she was free to decide without judgment. No, she wouldn’t be seeing much of Dan Egan ever again.  
\---  
“So, I think I’m going to do the TV interview with CBS,” Selina stated abruptly during a meeting. 

“Ma’am, I-I-I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Amy said. CBS being there, meant the possibility of seeing Dan, and after not seeing him for a few weeks, a knot formed in the stomach at the thought of interacting with her former flame. 

“Well Amy, I don’t really think it’s a good idea to fuck your ex-boyfriend like you’re Elizabeth fucking Taylor, and I’m sure as shit not going to cancel my first major interview since the election because of that high school bullshit.” 

Selina was right. And Amy hated it. CBS had been a long time supporter of the Meyer administration, asking her only the questions she wanted to answer and running many of her campaign rallies on air, so it was only fair that she grant her first interview to them. It just made Amy’s life a living fucking hell.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Amy complied. 

Sometimes working for Selina fucking sucked.  
\---  
Amy didn’t really get nervous. She didn’t get nervous when she gave her valedictorian speech in high school, she didn’t get nervous when she interviewed for her first job in D.C. She was stressed, almost constantly, but never in her life had she been stomach-in-knots, hand-sweating nervous. But the moment the CBS trucks pulled into Selina’s drive, Amy felt her stomach drop.

“So, you remember the guidelines, right? Yes to Catherine’s Wedding questions, yes to doc questions, no questions about her being with Tom during the recount, nothing about Andrew’s new girlfriend, got it?” Amy accosted the producer as he opened his car door, and she wasted no time in going through her mental checklist.

The producer nodded, though his face said he was utterly clueless. “I know, but I don’t think you’ll have to worry too much about the interviewer.”

The smug asshole himself approached just as the words left his producer’s mouth. “Selina called and decided at the last minute that me interviewing her would give less of an interrogation vibe and more like a chat between old friends.” 

The look on Amy’s face let Dan know that his arrival was news to her. 

“Selina didn't tell you?”

“Of course she told me, I just I-I-,” she stammered. 

She fucking hated him. Why did he have to be here? Him and his fucking well-tailored, stupid-expensive Italian suit, with his hair even more perfectly coiffed that he usually wore it. And wearing that boyish grin that always made her a little weaker in the knees than she would ever admit. 

“Look, Ames, I'm sorry. If I would've known this wasn't your decision, I wouldn't have agreed to it.” Even for a cocky son of a bitch, he looked sheepish, almost a slight bit apologetic.

“Don't worry about me, worry about yourself and try not to look like a complete incompetent asshole, ok? Selina needs this, and you need to keep your producers happy because I hear they're thinking of giving you your own segment. Why anyone would voluntarily subject themselves to 10 minutes of unadulterated and Dan Egan, I'll never understand but whatever.”

“You’ve never seemed to mind 10 minutes of Dan, have you Ames?”

“I think you mean 30 seconds of Dan. And Fuck off.”  
\---  
If she were being completely honest, a very small portion of Amy had hoped Dan would be terrible at his job. Granted, that would send Selina back into her manic depressive state, making her job-and life- a fuckton more difficult, but still. Dan had had pretty much everything he'd ever desired: looks, money, attention, talent, women. Maybe she just wanted to see one motherfucking thing not go his way.

But of course he was fan fucking tastic. Dammit. He asked Selina tough questions, questions she had specifically told him not to ask. When he asked her if she had been sleeping with Tom James throughout recount campaign, Amy’s head spun around like the fuckin Exorcist. But since he was Dan, he knew just what words to use and how to ask Selina without her blowing a gasket-to be fair, a habit they had picked up well €>in their White House days-which left her thrilled with the end result.

Despite being the first half-human/half-reptile to ever wear an Italian Suit, Dan came across warm and sympathetic on camera when Selina shed a tear over her presidency, a move that Amy didn't know he was even capable of. Mother Fucker offered her a tissue. 

When the Producer called cut on the last segment, Selina was practically singing show tune. “Dan thank you, thank you, thank you!! You really sold this bullshit and the Public is gonna eat it up with a fuckin spoon.” She tackled him with a hug, which left Dan and Amy both with gaping hugs, and ran off with Gary to go through her bar for a good celebrating champagne. 

“That was your plan the whole time wasn’t it? You know her, and you know how to work her. You figure you give her the interview of her dreams, she talks to her friends who are on the board of CBS and you don't just get a segment, you get your own show? I should've seen this vapid bullshit coming.” Amy stood with her arms crossed and stared in utter apathy. 

“Look Amy, we both want things. You wanted her to do well, and I wanted my own show. Why don't we just get a drink and celebrate that we both get what we want?”

She looked him up and down in disdain. “Why the fuck would I want to get a drink and spend any time with you?”

“I thought maybe after the wedding you'd want to talk.”

“There's nothing left to talk about Dan. I'm with Buddy now, and you're with an endless string of mildly useful women who you will use and then toss out like fucking garbage. And we both have to live with our decisions. So let's just be civil and get through today.”

Dan nodded in agreement. “Ok then.” Even though she knew she had given him an excellent “fuck off” response, she could still feel his eyes on her ass when she walked away. And she hated herself for smiling.  
\---


	5. The Wegmans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you grocery shopping? Jesus Christ, I leave you alone for 2 months and you’re Martha fucking Stewart?”

\---

Amy was never one for anniversaries. She didn't enjoy them with her college boyfriend, she sure as hell didn't enjoy them with Ed, and she wasn't really feeling like celebrating with Buddy. But the cowboy really wanted to celebrate their 6 month anniversary, and after everything she had put him through-whether he knew it or not-she owed him a dinner at the very least. 

So there she was, out in a blustery fucking December day in the middle of Wegmans, scrolling the aisles to find the ingredients necessary for any of the 3 dishes she was able to make. Cooking was usually a waste of time and energy that could be spent elsewhere. When she worked in the White House, Amy usually grabbed takeout from a variety of places nearby, or if it had been a particularly draining day, she would skip dinner and head straight to the bar with Dan, their meal being whiskey shots and salted pretzels.

Why in the fuck did his name pop into her head? After Selina’s interview, he seemed to have finally gotten the hint and decided to leave her alone. It had been 2 months since they'd seen each other, and she didn't miss him-really, she didn't. But that didn't mean she didn't think about him, unfortunately for her psyche. Every time she turned on the news, or saw a car that looked like his, her mind couldn’t help but wander to her former co-worker. Last week in her apartment building, a man with dark hair and a coat walked past, and she almost snapped her fucking neck turning around.

But she wasn’t going to think about him today. Well, not again. Amy had made her choice, and she was happy with it. Definitely happy.

She shoved any thoughts of Dan Egan back down into repression where they belonged and returned her focuses to grocery shopping. Noodles, noodles, where are the fucking spaghetti noodles in this place? Deciding that the freezer section was probably not the place to be looking, she turned her cart down the next aisle as she browsed in search anything she could throw together and call a meal.

Amy looked down at her grocery list when suddenly she felt another cart ram into hers. Hard. “What the fuck is your problem?” She said, putting her phone down to fully address this asshole.

Of fucking course it was him.

\---

She was fuming, and all he could do was smile at her with that smug fucking smile. He was clearly very amused with himself.

“Come on, Ames. Lighten up.” He glanced down to see a grocery list on her phone. “Are you grocery shopping? Jesus Christ, I leave you alone for 2 months and you’re Martha fucking Stewart?”

“Not that it's any of your fucking business, but I'm making dinner for Buddy. It's our anniversary,” she said with an attempt at confidence. 

He looked at her in a way that both disgusted her and turned her on. “God, how weak does that guy has to be to have his girlfriend fuck around on him and still want to be with her?”

Amy’s furious but silent response filled Dan in. “You haven’t fucking told him? Jesus, no wonder you’re making him dinner, you’re so ridden with guilt it must be raining blow jobs over there.”

All the rage Amy had harbored for 10 years manifested itself in that moment. Every unanswered text, every random one-night stand he flaunted in her face, when he stole her job, when he fucked her sister-every injustice she had suffered at the hands of Dan Egan was coming back to bite him in his well-sculpted ass that moment. “For every one nice thing you do for me, you do 50 shitty things. And it’s really fucking exhausting to sit around and watch you continue to fuck me over when I’m the only one who even gives a shit about about, even though every smart part of my body tells me I should cut you out of my life like the goddamn cancer you are.”

By the time Amy finished her rant, she had quite literally backed Dan into a corner. Her face was flush with anger as she stared at him in disbelief, daring him to say something in return.

He didn’t. He instead took her hand and pulled her into the family bathroom.

“What the fuck are you doing, I just compared you to a tumor?”

He locked the door behind him and pulled her in close. “Can you be quiet for just once in your life?”

Amy’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What in the fuck are you doing?”

Neither one of them moved, as the heat between them only increased with every second their eyes remained locked. “Jesus, Amy. Shut the fuck up for once.” Dan rolled his eyes at her, then kissed her hard and desperately. Had she hesitated, even for a moment, he’d have stopped and walked away. But the moment they kissed, her hard exterior softened, as she parted her lips and let his slip between hers. 

Taking her kiss back as a sign of approval, their kisses became messier and more frantic, as he moved his mouth from her mouth to her neck, peppering the skin as he alternated between kisses and bites. 

“Oh Shit,” she moaned, her eyes rolling back in her head as he moved her backwards. Amy’s back felt the cold porcelain of the sink against her skin. He lifted her just enough to sit her on the edge, sliding his hands up her thighs. Dan found her underwear, sliding them to her ankles, and slipping a finger inside her. Amy pulled him close and kissed him, moaning between kisses, as he fingered her faster. 

Not being able to wait any longer, she moved her hands south and began to undo his belt, freeing him from his boxer shorts. He slid into her, and Amy moaned at the feeling of being so full. She clutched the back of his neck and wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into him to push him deeper. Her hands clutched the sink tightly as she felt herself nearing release. His hand moved down to circle her clit as her moans got louder. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” Amy said, as he thrusted and circled her clit even faster. She moaned loudly and gave into her orgasm, feeling him finish inside her and the release of her own muscles.

\---

As it always did, a wave of self-hatred flooded Amy the moment Dan pulled out of her. “That was pretty great work I did back there,” He said with an egotistical nod, “You did good too, Ames.”

Jesus, why did he have to talk? Amy would fuck Dan all across D.C. as long as he didn’t fucking talk. But he just can’t help himself. As she got dressed, she looked up to see her own reflection, a sight she wasn’t too proud of at the moment. She should be in ‘I can’t stop fucking people I hate’ anonymous, honestly. 

Amy combed her hair in the mirror, grabbed her coat, and unlocked the door. She raised her eyes to meet his gaze, surprised to see him looking back at her. Their eyes held for a longer moment than usual, and when his gaze softened, she shifted her eyes to the floor. “Don’t call me.” One hand on the doorknob, she turned back to him. “Seriously, don’t. Buddy….he can make me happy. And You can’t.”

With a flash of her blonde hair, she walked out the door, and tried to ignore the tears burning in her eyes.

\---

The cold brisk air greeted her the second she walked out the sliding glass doors and only continued as she got in her car, and quickly turned the heat on. 

As the air blasted through the vents and she made her way home, regret pulsed through her veins. She couldn’t park her car and get inside quickly enough, but as soon as she turned the handle, she was greeted with the face of her guilt. 

“Hey sweetie,” Buddy’s friendly face greeted her as he approached and took the bags from her hands. Noticing the distressed look on her face, he pressed her. “Something wrong?”

Amy shook her head and smiled. “Just really cold outside, I think I’m gonna go take a hot bath.”

He smiled back at her. “Alright, well if you need anything, just holler.”

She looked at her face in the bathroom mirror and sighed. Amy turned on the bath, and began to undress. Her top came off, and when she looked in the mirror, she noticed several hickies that had newly formed on her collarbone. “For fucks sake.” She just couldn’t fucking help herself, Dan was her one weakness. She knew that-and unfortunately so did he. Her pants shimmied off and she laid down in the bathtub, putting her head under the water. As the water poured, the finally let herself cry, releasing the day’s emotions.

She had a Dan Egan problem, and she wasn’t sure what to do about it.


	6. The New Year's Eve Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She still had yet to fucking acknowledge him. He was less than proud to admit that she’d almost hurt his feelings by ignoring him in this way, but because he was just as stubborn as she was, he refused to speak to her first. Amy could sit and awkwardly peck at that vampire scarecrow as long as she pleased, because he was not going to be the one to break first.

\---

The Holidays had never been a fun time in the Egan household. His Dad was always working, his Mom was trying to frantically over compensate for it, his brother was busy being the angel of the family, and Dan could never stay awake during midnight Mass. On the rare occasion that his family was together, it was filled with silent tension as his mother ran in circles trying to make it all perfect for his rarely-present father. As the years went on, he began to separate himself from his family and their holiday festivities. His dad passed, he left for school, and by the time he had gotten his job with Selina, he had stopped going to family Christmas all together-save a call to his mother, where he lied about going to mass. 

Naturally, New Years Eve wasn’t a huge deal for Dan. He usually went out with a few college buddies, had 4 beers, found the prettiest girl willing to go home with him, and took her home. 

When Ben called him and invited him to their favorite bar for New Year’s, he couldn’t say no. Technically, he could have, but Ben had been as close to a mentor as he’d had, and he truly wanted to see the old bastard and catch up. It had nothing at all to do with Amy. I mean sure, it’d be great to see her, and the thought did occur to him that Ben had a soft spot in his heart for the former campaign manager, and that’d she’d probably be invited.He told himself though, that he was only going to see if Ben still grabbed drinks with that CNN producer in search of a new segment anchor.

Dan walked into that shitty Georgetown bar, and welcomed the very warm air as he stepped in from the bitter cold. He had perhaps prepared just a bit to see his former sexual partner, as he was dressed in a dark black suit that perfectly tailored to every muscle, and a green tie that popped against his eyes. He looked good, and he knew it. 

His smile faded as he saw Buddy turn a corner. This has to be a fucking joke. This clown, still? Dan had become silently furious just at the sight of his lanky fucking face. 

“Jesus,” Ben remarked at Dan’s expression. “Who fucked your Mom? You look like shit.”

He shook his head and made a confused face at the question. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m here, just you know...having a great time.” He gestured around at the crowd. 

She still had yet to fucking acknowledge him. He was less than proud to admit that she’d almost hurt his feelings by ignoring him in this way, but because he was just as stubborn as she was, he refused to speak to her first. Amy could sit and awkwardly peck at that vampire scarecrow as long as she pleased, because he was not going to be the one to break first.

\---

So there he was at 11:30, sitting at the bar with Kent, silently downing scotch after scotch. Due to the approaching midnight, the DJ turned on a more slow, romantic tune, and seeing as he would rather bleach his eyes out than watch Amy and Buddy dance and Mike and Wendy hump each other, he instead scanned the room for a fine young thing that would spark his interest, at least for the next 10 hours. 

Nope, Nope, Oh Jesus no. He paused as he saw a young blonde woman across the room. She couldn’t have been older than 25, but the thing he noticed more is the finger in her friend’s face as she screamed about what a ‘fucking bitch’ she was. She’d do. 

He approached her with a glass of white wine in hand. “You look like you could use a drink.” He smiled and stuck out the glass in his hand.

The young woman looked at him quizzically, silently wondering what his angle was. “Thanks,” She replied, “I’m Gina,” she stuck out a hand to introduce herself. 

He escorted to the bar and, as he saw Amy in his periphery, scooted himself closer to her. “So tell me about yourself, Gina.” And as she blathered on about being in Tri-Delta, his eyes were looking at her, but his focus was on the blonde in the background, slow dancing with Gumby.

He felt a slap on his arm. “Are you even listening to me?” The 23 year old looked at him with a pissed off expression. “Uh, yeah, for sure.”

She stared daggers into him, “Then what was I even saying?”

As he struggled to come up with a reasonable answer, she gasped in shock, and hit him with her purse as she got up to leave. “Fuck you, Dan.”

This night seemed to be never ending. Knowing it could only get worse from here, Dan grabbed his jacket and walked out the door.

\---

Amy looked across the room to see Dan sitting comically close to some co-ed. She audibly groaned from her spot on the dance floor, causing Buddy to look down at her. 

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” The giant asked.

“Just typical fucking Dan. Picks the youngest, most vulnerable girl in the bar and makes her his prey. It's like watching the Discovery Channel, except the cheetah is more human.”

Buddy shifted his gaze to Dan and the co-ed. “I don't know, she looks like a nice enough girl to me.”

“Nice enough for Girls Gone Wild and a pool full of Jello maybe.” Amy shot back. She shook him off and started to raise her voice. “You just don't know him like I do. He takes a girl, uses her and throws her away and it isn't fucking fair, Buddy!”

Buddy looked both confused and concerned at his girlfriend’s outburst. “You alright?”

She took a deep breath and nodded her head. “I just need -” she spotted Dan heading outside, “I just need a minute outside. I'll be back.”

Amy quickly put on her coat and walked outside, hoping to catch him before he left.

\---

Amy followed Dan outside into the cold, snowy night. “Hey Asshole,” she called.

Dan turned around and huffed exasperatedly.”What in the fuck do you want?”

“Jesus Dan, what is going on with you? You haven’t even spoken to me tonight.”

He ran a hand through his hair, as he had had a long enough night already, and it just seemed to be getting farther from midnight. “Better get back inside Ames, don’t want Buddy to go looking for you.” The condescending tone dripping from every word.

“Like you don’t have one of Georgetown’s finest sorority girls in there ready to take home? You don’t get to fucking judge me, Dan.”

Dan scoffed and rolled his eyes in response, which only further pissed off Amy.

“What, now I have a boyfriend and you think you’re entitled to be pissed off? You fucking aren’t,” Amy said wagging a finger in his face. “You had your shot Dan, and you blew it like the self-sabotaging sociopath you are. You don’t get to be mad at me, you don’t get to feel sorry for yourself, you get NOTHING, and that’s what you fucking earned.”

Dan looked at her with a furrowed brow. “What the fuck are you talking about Amy? I don’t remember getting the fucking memo that I had a shot with you, I DO remember you getting a boyfriend, fucking me and then ignoring me though. I remember that shit really fucking well.”

She threw her hands up in the air, as if she was amazed by the sheer stupidity she was hearing. “If you can’t remember getting twenty THREE text messages from me, then you must have even fewer brain cells than I fucking remembered.”

“I don’t have any fucking clue what you are talking about, Amy.”  
She furrowed her own brow. “You didn’t get my texts in Nevada?”

“Again, I don’t have a fucking clue what you’re talking about Amy. I never got a text from you in Nevada.”

“You’re a fucking liar,” She said. Amy turned around to see him standing behind her. Their eyes locked, both fueled by anger. “I fucking hate you,” she said inches from his face.

He took a step closer to her. “You wish you hated me.” 

She tried to pushed him away, but his body didn’t budge. Their eyes locked for a moment and the tension between them sizzled. Amy gave in and pulled him by his neck to her for a deep, hot kiss. He bit her lip to nudge hers open, and explored her mouth with his tongue as she did the same.  
Dan pulled away, and his gaze shifted to someone in the background. Amy furrowed her brow as she looked up and saw her former partner’s stunned expression. As she turned, she saw Buddy standing on the doorstep of the bar, a broken hearted expression on his long face. 

Their lives are such a fucking joke. 

\---


	7. The In-Between

Amy stared out the window, mindlessly watching the houses and trees pass as she weaved in and out of traffic. She blocked out the noise: car horns blaring, music through the speakers, her phone pinging. Blocking it out was easier, easier than listening to her wounded boyfriend try to put a band-aid on a gunshot wound.  
  
“I never got a text from you in Nevada.” Dan’s words still echoed in her mind on the rare occasion she let herself think of him. Dan had a tendency to play dumb when it benefitted him, but this? This didn’t benefit him at all. Amy knew Dan, better than she would ever admit to, and his face, it looked genuinely confused. That thought led to a question that made her stomach drop: Why would he lie about getting her texts-if he was clearly so bothered by her being with Buddy?  
  
Holy shit, Buddy. In the days and weeks following his untimely entrance, Amy began to feel more and more disconnected from him. Rather than ending their relationship, he instead burrowed himself in deeper-begging her to go to couples counseling, asking what he could do to fix it and waking her up in the dead of night to have existential conversation-all of which annoyed the living fuck out of Amy. She’d rather him be mad at her, rather him feel something other than apathy. She felt nothing, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had. Actually, she could remember the last time she’d felt something, which was part of her problem.  
  
Currently, all Amy felt was an annoyance for how Buddy refused to leave a moment silent. “You know what? I should call my pastor back home in Carson City,” He blathered on, “He helped out a couple real nice after the husband got caught behind the barn with a ranch hand.” He pulled out his phone to dial, when Amy finally broke her silence.  
  
“Jesus Christ,” she said as she took a deep sigh.  
  
His head shot up at his girlfriend’s sudden response. “Something wrong?”  
  
Everything was wrong. She hadn’t spoken to Dan in the two weeks since they’d nearly fucked on the sidewalk, and normally not speaking to Dan was easy. Her feelings for him were like a faucet, she could turn them on and off as she needed, which made keeping her distance from him bearable. But these days, the faucet was leaking. Dan’s smug Ken doll face started making appearances in her subconscious. At the most unfortunate times. If she were being truly honest, the last time she and Buddy had had sex, she was nowhere near finishing for the first twenty minutes-he was far too eager and desperate to please after her dalliances with the dick of D.C. She closed her eyes and prayed it was over soon when into her head popped a face. A familiar face, one with dark eyes and freckles. Of fucking course.  
  
Despite her best efforts, all she could see was him. On all fours, head between her legs. Him slipping his tongue between her folds while his fingers slid and out of her. “Fuck, fuck YES.” She moaned as she felt herself getting close to orgasm for the first time since-well since she’d last seen Dan. In her mind, she saw him circling her clit with his tongue, imagining the rough feel of his scruff scraping the inside of her thighs. ”Fuck yes, Da-“ She bit her lip to keep from screaming his name. Much to her own chagrin, Dan had made her rare sexual encounter with Buddy a bit easier.  
  
But her wandering mind wasn’t even the strangest part. It was that she hadn’t heard from him at all. Even when he was maddest at her, even when she took his job as campaign manager, he couldn’t help but text her about the latest news or senate fuck-up. Two weeks and he hadn’t even sent her a joke about Jonah? It was unprecedented.  
  
“Something Wrong?” He pressed the question again, snapping Amy out of her thoughts.  
  
“Actually, yes,” She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts. “This clearly isn’t working anymore.” Amy’s voice only raised-both in pitch and volume. “I mean Jesus Buddy, I fucked someone else, repeatedly, and you keep walking on eggshells like you’re afraid I’m going to hit you on the nose with a rolled up fucking newspaper. Aren’t you mad at me-at all?”  
  
Buddy tripped over his words, as he stammered to an answer. “I am, I am so mad at you.” Part of her wished she could believe that, but his sad eyes told her she couldn’t.  
  
“I gotta go.” Amy pulled her door handle, and when it didn’t open she continually pulled on it becoming more and more frantic. “Can you unlock this fucking door please?” She kept her gaze out the window as she insisted on not looking at his sad, droopy hound-dog face.  
  
Once she had finally exited the car she let herself raise her head to look at her soon to be ex-boyfriend. Jesus Christ, he looked even worse than she’d thought. Like Gary after that time Selina tried print-mixing.  
  
“I won’t be coming home tonight, so you can take whatever you need to take back to Nevada.” Amy finally met his gaze.  
  
Her now ex-boyfriend’s lovelorn face was silent for the first time in weeks. “What-what could I have done-to fix it?” Were the words he found.  
  
“There’s nothing you could’ve done,” She responded. Buddy on paper, should’ve been it, he was the only guy she’d ever dated who remembered her mom’s birthday. But truthfully, it wasn’t about what Buddy was, it was about what he wasn’t.  
  
She slammed the car door and continued her walk to the office, when she finally checked her phone to see close to a thousand texts from Gary, asking which red dress Selina should wear to the American Heart Association gala. Fuuuuuuck, she’d forgotten all about that. She was not looking forward to that at all.  
  
\---  
  
Dan had no qualms about admitting he was Amy’s bitch. He just admitted it quietly, and to himself. He honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone more than a few days without talking to her. It wasn’t that he craved her-that his psyche pleaded for whatever morsel of attention she lay at his feet-really, it wasn’t. It was just that when he saw Jonah make an ass of himself on C-Span or some shit, it wasn’t the same if he didn’t have her to laugh about it with.  
  
But all those things didn’t change the fact that he was pissed at her. God, he was fucking pissed at her.  
  
“You're a fucking liar.” Dan of course didn't do offended, but that was the closest he’d been. Sure, he would admit to being Machiavellian, egotistical, cutthroat, a little sociopathic, and if the job required it-a liar. But he didn't lie to Amy. How could he have made it any fucking clearer that he wanted her, that night in Nevada? Hired a fucking skywriter? If she had wanted him too, why the fuck didn’t she say so? Or do anything besides latching onto the Good, the Ugly, and the Fucking Moronic.  
  
The audacity of her to bring that fucking scarecrow to their New Year’s party. Especially after they’d fucked the last time she’d seen him and she left like her fucking house was on fire after. Who else could turn her on like him? Get her wet and weak and the knees, desperate like him? Buddy sure as fuck couldn’t, yet she continued to attach herself to his dying star. Does Amy know how many women he’s sent out of his apartment because they couldn’t get enough of him? Dan knew Amy didn’t give a shit about any of those things-and it still made him want her more.  
  
Snapping fingers in his face brought him back to the present. Stevie was standing at his desk with arms filled with papers and an unpleasant smile on his already unpleasant face. “Did I bother you sleeping beauty?” He dropped the papers on Dan’s desk with a thud.  
  
Dan took a deep sigh. “What the fuck do you want?”  
  
“The American Heart Association gave us tickets to their shit gala next week to so we’d plug them on air, and guess which unlucky anchor is getting them? That'd be  
you, Danny Boy.” The producer turned on his heels and left as abruptly as he'd entered.  
  
As he flipped through the documents, he noticed the host for the evening-his former boss and citizen of the 7th circle of hell-Selina Meyer. Which meant her right hand woman was sure to be following behind. Oh, he was definitely going to this thing, and he was not going alone.


End file.
